


sometimes it all falls down

by to-a-merrier-world (wayward_wolves)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Canon Compliant, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of lots of other characters, Nightmares, Other, Post Ep. 13, Post Season 1, Sad Alec, Violence, violence blood gore and death are all in a dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:24:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6617713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_wolves/pseuds/to-a-merrier-world
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And so Alec did what he’d always done with his feelings: he pushed them away--didn’t examine them, didn’t talk about them. He shoved them as far back in his mind as he could, and buried himself in work and training. He put up an outward front, like he’d always done in the past, the mask coming so easily it almost sickened Alec. He’d thought...<em>hoped</em> that after everything with the wedding and afterwards, he wouldn’t have to wear masks anymore. That he could just...<em>be</em>. He hadn’t expected-. He didn’t think he would ever-. He didn’t want to think about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sometimes it all falls down

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by pastmydancingdays (thank you dear!)
> 
> Title taken from Delilah by Florence & the Machine.
> 
> Full disclosure: The mature rating is for the violence, blood, gore, and death depicted in a dream sequence. There's nothing more steamy than some smoochin' in the fic. 
> 
> Also, just fyi, there's one line in here taken from the books, and one taken from the author Kate Jacobs (which I'll put in the ends notes), but everything else is mine:)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> EDIT:: Turns out I actually really hated how this read in present tense, lol, so here's it re-done in past-tense.

It’d been a month. One month of searching, of politics and tense meetings with the Clave. One month, and nothing to show for it.

Clary was handling it all surprisingly well. Though, maybe Alec shouldn’t be quite so surprised, given how well she’d handled her entire world being flipped on its axis. Relatively speaking. Plus, with Jocelyn awake and acting as her daughter’s rock, and the vampire... _Simon_ constantly hanging around since he was banned from the Hotel Dumort, she had plenty of help.

Izzy, however, wasn’t doing as well, and Alec hated himself for not at least trying to talk to her about...everything. But he knew the moment he tried to broach the subject, she would realize how he was, or rather _wasn’t_ , dealing with it. And he couldn’t put that on her shoulders, he couldn’t bring himself to make her worry over him more than she likely already was. So instead, he avoided being alone with her, made sure to stay busy so he’d always have an excuse not to talk. She’d worry, but at least...at least she wouldn’t know.

She’d been hanging around Clary and Simon more and more often, anyways. The three of them got along like a house on fire, Izzy easily sliding into Clary and Simon’s dynamic, fitting comfortably between them. She’d be okay, Alec thought, as long as she had them.

And then there was Magnus. Alec’s stomach twisted every time he even thought the warlock’s name, and it wasn’t always the good kind of twisting. What was he doing? What _should_ he do? This whole immortality thing was almost impossible for Alec to wrap his head around. It wasn't as though he'd ever had a reason in the past to think about what the consequences of living forever were. He didn’t know what the right thing to do was. He still wanted to...to _know_ Magnus, but was that best _for_ Magnus? After all, he’d be the one left alone in the end.

And so Alec did what he’d always done with his feelings: he pushed them away--didn’t examine them, didn’t talk about them. He shoved them as far back in his mind as he could, and buried himself in work and training. He put up an outward front, like he’d always done in the past, the mask coming so easily it almost sickened Alec. He’d thought... _hoped_ that after everything with the wedding and afterwards, he wouldn’t have to wear masks anymore. That he could just... _be_. He hadn’t expected-. He didn’t think he would ever-. He didn’t want to think about it.

And it was easy, for a while. Everyone gave him space, or was busy themselves. Clary and Izzy were practically glued to each other, going on missions together, training together, spending time together with Simon or with Jocelyn and Luke. Clary sometimes spent time alone with her mother, which was to be expected, given all the grief she went through to get her back and all the explanations that had to be had. At those times, Izzy usually tried to find Alec and corner him into talking to her, but Alec had learned the signs of when Clary and Jocelyn were having another talk, so he always made sure to be occupied to avoid any confrontations.

Maryse didn’t really talk to Alec anymore, except to give orders. He’d catch her, sometimes, giving him a lingering look with some unknown emotion hidden deftly behind her mask of professionalism, but otherwise, they didn’t really interact anymore. Robert...well, he tried, Alec would give him that. Most of their conversations were stilted and awkward, at best, though. Robert would often open his mouth, only to stop himself and close it again, a pained look crossing his face before he’d pat Alec’s back or squeeze his shoulder and walk away.

Meanwhile, Magnus was busy dealing with the vampires, all in a ruckus after Camille’s escape, as well as the Clave, who were constantly asking him for help in searching for Valentine and other “urgent” Clave business. They still hadn’t gone on their date, but Alec wasn’t exactly eager to spend a lot of one-on-one time with the warlock at the moment.

Magnus tried, at first, to talk to Alec, but after the tenth or so time Alec made his clumsy, not-entirely-true-but-technically-not-a-lie excuses, he seemed to decide that Alec needed a bit of space. And so they spoke only in passing, Magnus flirtatious, but not pushy, and Alec trying his best to reciprocate, if largely failing in his efforts.

Alec could tell that how he was acting was hurting Magnus, from the sad look in his eyes, the slight down turn of his mouth each time he made his excuses. He knew Magnus didn’t deserve this, that he didn’t deserve to have to deal with the mess that was Alexander Gideon Lightwood, but _by the Angel_ , did Alec not want Magnus to give up on him. As confused and sad and mixed up as the whole immortality thing made him, as unsure as he was, as afraid as he was to hurt Magnus and to be hurt himself, he couldn’t help but want to hold on to him.

And Magnus seemed to understand, as he always did, taking everything that Alec didn’t say, didn’t even know _how_ to say, and showing him in every way that it was okay. That they could take their time, that he wouldn’t push Alec. It made Alec’s chest ache, but he just...he couldn’t deal with it. With any of it. Because the moment he did, the moment he _tried_ , he just _knew_ that he’d break under the weight of it all. And he couldn’t afford to break, not when everyone needed him. Not when J- No. _He wasn’t thinking about it._

So life went on. Alec went on missions, the number of demons and attacks increasing the longer Valentine went uncaptured. He trained and trained and trained, because he had to be better than ever before. He wouldn’t lose someone else. He went to tense meetings with the Clave, where they berated the New York Institute, and the Lightwoods specifically, for not being good enough to stop Valentine. And he spent time with Lydia.

Lydia was the only person Alec was comfortable spending an extended amount of time with, who didn’t try to get Alec to talk, and who didn’t make him feel guilty about not talking. She took what he gave, and didn’t ask him how he was holding up, or tell him that it wasn’t his fault, seemingly understanding what he wanted without ever having to ask. In return, Alec helped her with her physical therapy, since her knee was shattered in Hodge’s attack. She was getting better fast, Magnus’s healing magic doing wonders for her, but she still couldn’t go on missions. He knew how much that frustrated her, especially since she felt at least partly responsible for Valentine getting the Cup. And because Alec was terrible at comforting others and worse at talking about feelings, he helped her in the best way he knew how--by helping her get back into fighting condition.

And his life went on like that. Missions. Training. Meetings. Helping Lydia. More missions. More meetings. More training. The days started to blur together, and Alec appreciateed that and the almost numbing feeling that came along with it. He’d take the exhaustion, the stress and the strain, over ruminating over all of his fears and regrets and anger any day.

It was night, though, that posed the biggest problem. With night came sleep, and with sleep came nightmares. Nightmares filled with “what if’s” and “if only’s” and all the most twisted fears Alec’s subconscious could come up with. The worst, so far, was the one where Alec relived the moment Jace was taken, again and again. Relived being captured because he was too easily distracted. Relived not being fast enough. Not being _good_ enough.

Almost every time he tried to sleep, he’d wake up in a cold sweat only a few hours later after yet another nightmare. Afterwards, he was never able to get back to sleep, but he definitely didn’t want to sit around thinking about it all. So instead, he would leave the Institute and go on a run. It was always easy enough to sneak out in the middle of the night. He’d had years of practice, after all, always trailing after Jace and Izzy, always watching their backs. The problem, back then, had always been sneaking back _in_ , but Alec didn’t have to worry about that now. No one questioned him for coming back in from an early morning run. Of course, they didn’t know he’d left in the middle of the night, but that was sort of the point.

When he was running, he didn’t have to think. He could just clear his mind, concentrate on breathing in and out, on the pounding of his feet, on the strain of his muscles. He could forget everything but working his body, pushing it to go harder, faster, farther. He'd always treated his body like a tool, a weapon to be used and honed to fit its purpose. It was what everyone had always told him a shadowhunter’s body was for. Shadowhunters were soldiers, first and foremost, afterall. That was why they carved runes into their skin, why each painful, scarring one was worth it. And that was why Alec pushed himself, why he ran. He wouldn’t let his body fail again.

* * *

 

One night, Alec startled out of sleep after yet another nightmare. This one, however, was different from the others, and by far the worst he'd ever had.

He was on a date with Magnus in a restaurant, dark and hazy and nondescript. They were having a good time, Alec actually smiling, _laughing_ even, his stomach and chest fluttering and swooping in happiness. But all of that was very short-lived. Suddenly, a hand came out of the dark and grabbed ahold of Magnus’s head, wrenching it back to expose his neck, and then a glowing seraph blade was slicing through his throat, and there was blood, blood, _so much blood_. It sprayed across the table, some of it splattering across Alec’s face.

Alec cried out Magnus’s name and was suddenly by his side, his hands uselessly trying to stem the outpouring of blood from his throat. Magnus’s front was soaked in red, and his hands groped uselessly at Alec’s arms, too slick with his own blood to get a grip. Each tiny, choking gasp Magnus made was like an arrow to Alec’s heart, and all he could do was helplessly beg, “Please, _please,_ no. No no no, please, Magnus. Please just hold on, _**please**_!” Magnus watcheed him, eyes filled with fear and pain and then nothing at all.

_**“NO!”** _

The word was ripped out of Alec’s chest, and he was gasping and shaking, staring into Magnus’s now sightless eyes. He slowly removed his hands from Magnus’s neck, body stiff with shock, his heart still pounding with adrenaline. A sob clawed its way up his throat, and tears clouded his vision as he stared down at his shaking hands, soaked in Magnus’s blood.

Minutes or hours passed, he couldn’t tell which, couldn’t be bothered to try, before Alec looked up again. By the time he did, the scene had changed. He was in Idris, or at least, what _used_ to be Idris. All around him was fire and rubble and bodies, by the Angel, _so many bodies_. Alec stumbleed to his feet, his limbs heavy and slow. He turned around, looking in horror at the carnage around him. Bodies of shadowhunters and downworlders alike were broken and discarded, like puppets with their strings cut. The scent of blood and smoke sat heavy in the air, making it hard to breath.

When he turned around, he was suddenly standing before a huge pile of rubble, the bodies of everyone he cared for scattered over it.

“No,” Alec whispered, taking an involuntary step toward the sickening scene before him.

Directly in front of him was Max, small and fragile looking on top of the huge chunks of rubble. His face was so peaceful he would look like he was sleeping if it weren’t for the blade buried deep in his chest, blood soaking his shirt all around the wound, turning the grey material black. Around him were Izzy and their parents, their bodies turned towards Max’s, as though they died trying to save him. They probably had, Alec thought almost absently, his mind gone nearly numb in despair and horror.

Izzy’s body lied several feet above Max, and was twisted and broken and just so _wrong_. She was lying face down, her dark hair fanned out around her, a pool of blood running from her head and dripping onto the rocks below, and her whip lying uselessly by her side. Maryse was closest to Max, her hand reaching out towards him, not even a foot away. She had three arrows sticking out of her body, two to the back and one through her neck. Alec could see her eyes, now glassy and unseeing, staring right at her youngest son. Robert lied much the same as Max, his chest shredded and his face covered in cuts and bruises.

Alec tore his gaze away, a broken sob escaping from around the lump in his throat, tears streaming down his face and leaving clean tracks through the blood still splattered there. However, looking away from the previous horrors only brought more to his attention.

Clary’s body was lying not 8 feet from Izzy’s. Hers was covered in hundreds of bruises and bloody cuts, as though she’d been fighting for hours, and her seraph blade lied just out of reach. She was lying on her stomach, one arm stretched forward, as though she was knocked to the ground and had been grappling desperately for her blade. But she hadn’t reached it in time, a spear sticking out of her back clearly having dealt a killing blow before she could.

There was a body only feet away from her’s, which Alec assumed was Simon’s. He couldn’t be sure, though, as it was missing its head. Alec gagged, turning away and throwing up on the ground at the sight. When he’d finished emptying his stomach, he looked back up, unable to stop himself. There was only one person he hadn’t seen yet, and he hoped, prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t-. That _he_ wasn’t-. He tilted his head to look farther up the pile of rubble, and there, near the very top, was Jace.

The moment Alec’s eyes find him, the sky opened up and a single ray of sunlight cut across his body, making his blonde hair turn gold and the blood covering his body and the huge blade sticking out of his chest gleam in the light. He looked like a fallen angel, Alec couldn’t help but think as his heart broke and an anguished sob was wrenched from his very core. Alec stared and stared, unable to tear his eyes away from the body of his friend, his brother, _his parabatai_. Tears streamed down his cheeks, Alec not bothering to wipe them away, not even fully aware of them at all.

“Why, Alec?” A soft voice came from behind him, sounding loud in the quiet of the desolation surrounding him.

Alec turned sharply and gasped in horror at the sight that greeted him. Magnus, his throat still cut open and his front covered in blood, was standing before him, his eyes shadowed and his skin pale as a vampire’s. Alec stood frozen, unable to move or do more than stare, tears still streaming down his face.

“Why didn’t you save them, Alec?” Magnus asked in that same quiet, haunting voice. “Why didn’t you save _me?_ ”

“I...I,” Alec stuttered out, unable to say anything more.

Magnus shook his head in disappointment and turned away.

“Magnus, wait!” Alec called after him, trying to move forward to stop him, but it was like he was running through molasses, his legs slow and dragging as Magnus grew farther and farther away.

“Don’t leave me!” Alec cried out desperately, one hand reaching uselessly towards him.

_**“MAGNUS!”** _

* * *

 

Alec woke on a choking gasp, and he struggled to sit up, tearing at the sheets that were tangled around his body. He was covered in sweat and breathing heavily as he pushed the sheets fully off of him, dragging his legs over the side of the bed. He sat there for a long while, his body bent over and his shaking hands hanging between his legs as he tried to slow his breathing and racing heart.

“A dream. Just a dream,” he repeated to himself again and again, voice barely a whisper.

When his heart had finally stopped pounding and his breathing had returned to a more normal rate, Alec sat up and dragged a hand over his face. That one had been...bad. There was definitely no way he was going back to sleep after that. He turned to look at the clock on his bedside table, and 3:02 am stared back at him in glowing red.

Alec took a deep breath and stood, walking slowly over to his closet and pulling on sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. He pulled on his running shoes and grabbed his stele, quickly pulling up his sleeve and running it over his soundless rune on his right forearm before sticking it, and his cell phone, in his hoodie pocket and slipping quietly out his bedroom door.

He stopped momentarily outside a room slightly down the hall from his, Izzy’s room, and cracked the door open just enough to stick his head through. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but once they did, he was easily able to spot Izzy in bed, lying on her back with her mouth slightly open and chest steadily rising and falling as she slept.

The heavy knot that had been twisting viciously in his chest eased a bit, and he closed the door just as quietly as he’d opened it. He moved swiftly now, sticking to rarely-used hallways as he made his way to the back of the Institute. Once he slipped through the back door and pulled it closed silently behind him, Alec let out a rush of breath. He was always a bit on edge when he snuck out, not wanting to get caught and have to have an awkward conversation with anyone. He shivered a bit and pulled his age-worn hoodie’s sleeves over his hands, only just now realizing how cool it was.

Alec quickly made his way off Institute property and onto the street. He started with jogging in order to warm up and to get his head back under control. He concentrated on the steady rhythm of his feet hitting the concrete, on the city sounds all around him, letting it drown out all his thoughts. He’d gone two city blocks before he picked up the pace, pushing his body harder and faster. Soon, everything started to run together and blur, his mind blissfully blank except for the sounds of late night New York and the pounding of his feet on the pavement.

He ran and ran and ran, taking street after street, letting his feet carry him where they willed. At one point, he remembered crossing a bridge, but otherwise, all the streets blurred together. He’d been running for what must have been two hours, the sky lightening, but the sun not yet over the horizon, before he slowed to a steady jog and finally took notice of his surroundings. He was startled to find that his feet had taken him to Brooklyn. In fact, the next street sign he came across told him he was only a few blocks away from Magnus’s apartment.

Alec came to a stop in front of an old, boarded up church, and leaned against its iron gate. What the hell was he doing? He clenched his fists, pressing them hard into his thighs as he leaned over to catch his breath. He'd never done this before, not after any of his previous nightmares. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, only to have images of blood covered hands and sliced open throats flash before his eyes. He tore his eyes open, tipping his head back to look at the quickly lightening sky, his brow furrowed and jaw clenched.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He bit the inside of his cheek as his mind buzzed with everything he was holding back, his stomach twisting with anxiety as he debated his next move. Alec stood like that for a solid five minutes, searching the quickly lightening sky for answers, before he gave an irritated grunt, pushed off the gate, and started walking towards Magnus’s apartment.

He’d just...see Magnus, make sure he was okay. He’d claim Clave business, that he was just there to assess the situation with the vampires and the search for Valentine. Then, maybe, the tight knot twisting painfully in Alec’s gut would loosen, like it had with Izzy. He’d be reassured that Magnus was alright, that no situations had gotten more dire, and everything would be...fine.

Alec was so caught up in his own head, trying to convince himself that seeing Magnus right now _wasn’t_ the worst decision he could make, that it took him half a block to realize he’d walked right past Magnus’s place.

He backtracked and came to a stop in front of the by-now familiar building. He took the stairs to the front entrance two at a time and then proceeded to stand in front of the call box and stared at the only name on the list (Bane) for a solid minute, unmoving. Then, all at once, Alec made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and jerked into motion, quickly mashing the buzzer to Magnus’s apartment.

The second Alec’s finger left the button, his mind was suddenly awash with overwhelming anxiety and regret.

“ _Shit,_ ” he whispered with feeling, as he stared in horror at his own hand. What the _fuck_ had he just done? Was he an idiot? Magnus wasn’t going to buy that he was here on Clave business at _5 in the morning_. He’d ask Alec questions and Alec would feel cornered and caged in and pressured into _talking_ , and that was the absolute _last_ thing Alec wanted to do, and and-

Before Alec could work himself up into a full-blown panic attack, a very familiar voice came booming over the old speaker next to the call box.

_**“WHO DARES DISTURB MY REST?”** _

Alec was momentarily struck dumb, very suddenly reminded of the fact that Magnus was both a _very powerful_ and _very important_ warlock. Of course, all that came out of his mouth at that moment was a rather ineloquent, “Uh…”

There was a short moment of quiet in which Alec desperately weighed the pros and cons between saying something else and just high tailing it out of there. Before he could come to a decision, however, Magnus’s voice came back over the speaker, significantly calmer this time around.

“...Alexander?” he asked, voice soft and curious.

“Y-yeah,” Alec responded, swallowing hard.

There was a moment of silence, and then, “Come up.”

There was a buzz and the door unlocked for him. Alec pulled it open and walked in, mind gone blank from a combination of terror and anxiety as he walked slowly up the stairs. By the time he reached Magnus’s door, he was absolutely certain that this was a terrible, terrible idea and he should just turn around and leave now, consequences be damned. Before he could do that, however, Magnus’s door opened to reveal the warlock himself.

Alec’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of him, all thoughts of fleeing momentarily forgotten. Alec had never seen him look so... _bare_ , for lack of a better word. All he was wearing was a pair of purple, shimmery sleep pants and a black, silk robe embroidered in gold that was loosely held closed at his waist. Magnus’s face was completely free of makeup, and his ears, neck, wrists, and fingers were all devoid of his customary jewelry. His hair was ungelled and slightly mussed, as though he’d just woken up, which. Yeah, he probably had.

His hair had light purple tips, Alec noticed, which was new. It looked nice. And his nails were painted that dark pink color he didn’t remember the name of, but that he still thought was pretty. All of Magnus was pretty-no, _beautiful_. Magnus was beautiful.

Of course, after taking all of this in, all Alec managed to do was blurt out, “You’re not wearing shoes.”

Magnus opened his mouth, clearly caught off guard by the completely random comment, before closing it again with a perplexed look. He recovered quickly, however.

“Yes, well. I did just wake up, and I’m not really in the habit of wearing shoes to bed,” he jokingly said, trying to lighten the very strange mood.

“Right,” Alec responded, defaulting to his monotone way of saying things when he was uncomfortable, and nodded his head. He rocked back on his heels awkwardly and jammed his hands into his hoodie pockets.

“Is…” Magnus started and Alec tensed, trying to prepare for the onslaught of questions that he knew were coming. However, to Alec’s surprise, Magnus simply shook his head, smiled a bit, and said, “Please, come in.”

Magnus turned and walked back into his apartment, leaving the door open as a clear invitation for Alec to follow. Without much input from the rest of him, Alec’s feet propelled him forward after Magnus. He walked down the short entryway, and then turned into the main room of Magnus’s apartment. He took a few steps into the room and then stopped, not quite sure what to do with himself as Magnus was nowhere to be seen.

“How do you take your coffee?” Magnus suddenly called from another room, and Alec only just stopped himself from jumping.

“Wait, let me guess,” Magnus said, sticking his head around the doorframe across the room to give Alec a teasing look.

“Black, like your _entire_ wardrobe,” he said, pointedly looking Alec up and down.

Alec huffed a surprised laugh, even smiling a bit despite himself. He was instantly a little less tense, which he suspected was Magnus’s plan all along. Not that he minded.

“Cream and sugar, actually,” he responded, his lips still ever-so-slightly turned up at the corners.

Magnus’s face split into a delighted grin. “I _knew_ you had a sweet tooth.”

Alec pulled a face, which only made Magnus laugh as he disappeared again into the other room. He reemerged a moment later carrying a tray with two coffees and a plate of delicious smelling scones. Alec raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“You didn’t steal those, did you?” he asked, only half joking, and walked over to where Magnus was placing the tray down on his coffee table.

Magnus snorted as he sat down on his couch, beckoning for Alec to sit next to him.

“I happen to pay Agathe _very_ well, thank you. Also, her tip jar is always full, and in return, she doesn’t mind too much if the occasional pastry or coffee suddenly goes missing,” Magnus explained as Alec sat down next to him and he handed Alec one of the coffees.

“Agathe?” Alec asked, taking a tentative sip of the drink before humming in approval. It was, incredibly, exactly the way Alec took his coffee: a spoonful of sugar and a large splash of cream. Magnus really hadn't been wrong about Alec’s sweet tooth. He just didn’t indulge it, usually, so most people didn’t know.

“An old client of mine,” Magnus answered, carefully picking up one of the still steaming scones and placing it on a cloth napkin that he then handed to Alec. “She’s a pâtissière in Paris, not famous or anything, but still well-known in her neighborhood for her delicious creations. She caters to downworlder clientele, even does large gatherings on occasion, and at one point had a, well, let’s call it a _disagreement_ , with a group of vampires.”

Magnus pauseed here to take a sip of his coffee, and said, “Try the scone. They’re raspberry white chocolate, and I promise you they will be the second best thing you’ve ever put in your mouth.”

“Second?” Alec asked confusedly, taking a bite of the scone, and promptly having to hold back a moan, because _holy shit_ , that was good. He thought his eyes might have actually fluttered in pleasure.

Magnus’s smile morphed into a _very_ self-satisfied smirk, and he replied coyly, “Well, you have had _me_ in your mouth.”

Alec nearly choked on his bite of scone, and had to take a large gulp of his coffee to clear his throat. He avoided looking Magnus in the eye and kept drinking his coffee, knowing that his face must be entirely red by now. Magnus, luckily, took pity and continued his story.

“Anyways, I still maintain to this day that there is nothing quite as awful as French vampires. They are annoying, think far too highly of themselves, and are generally more trouble than they’re worth. This group, though, took the cake.”

Magnus continued telling the harrowing tale, involving, strangely enough, a duke, a duck, and the Mona Lisa. Alec was almost entirely certain that half of it was made up and the rest was embellished to the highest degree, but he found that he didn’t really mind. He enjoyed watching Magnus with his dramatic gesturing and exaggerated facial expressions, and even if his stories weren’t entirely true, they were _very_ entertaining.

So Alec sat there in front of Magnus’s wall of windows, watching the sun rise over the New York skyline, eating raspberry white chocolate scones magicked from France, and listening to the most beautiful man he’d ever met regale him with tale after tale, each more far-fetched and wonderful than the last. Alec didn’t have to say much at all, only asking for small clarifications and exclaiming when the stories took a particularly ridiculous turn.

It was nice. _Really_ nice. It was the first time in...well, a really long time, that Alec had smiled this much, _laughed_ this much. The terror of his nightmare seemed so far away, sitting here with Magnus, as though it had been weeks ago that he woke up in a cold sweat, rather than just hours.

By the time the sun was over the skyline entirely, the scones were only crumbs and their coffee cups sat empty on the tray. They’d lapsed into silence now, distracted by the beautiful view before them. After a few moments passed, Alec felt Magnus’s eyes on him. He knew what was coming, what he was going to ask, knew that Magnus deserved to know why he came here so early in the morning, why he’d been pushing him away all this time. And strangely enough, Alec felt almost...at peace with the knowledge of what was coming. The idea of someone _finally_ knowing, of finally telling someone about all of his fears and anger and guilt, was oddly...freeing.

So, Alec took a deep breath, and before Magnus could say anything, breathed out a quiet, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Magnus asked, just as quietly.

Alec let out a disbelieving huff of air, and turned to look at Magnus. He took him all in, this beautiful, confusing, _wonderful_ man before him, and was suddenly overcome with a rush of emotions. Before he fully processed what he was doing, he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Magnus’s lips.

It was nothing like their first kiss. This one was soft, warm, and sweet, like raspberry white chocolate scones and a New York City sunrise. It didn’t last very long, only a few seconds, but Alec felt as though he could stay in this moment forever. But he did eventually pull away, slowly, and looked at Magnus to gauge his reaction.

Magnus’s eyes fluttered a bit, and his mouth was slightly open with a dazed look on his face, as though he couldn’t quite believe what just happened. After a moment, he seemed to come back to himself and he stared at Alec with something akin to wonder, a small, but breathtaking smile lighting up his face.

Alec’s chest swelled with an emotion he didn’t yet have a name for and he smiled back, small, but happy. He let the moment linger a bit longer, but he knew that he had to break it because he needed to- no, _wanted_ to tell Magnus why he was here. To tell him…everything.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and turned away from Magnus to look back out the windows, not quite brave enough to bare his soul while looking into Magnus's deep, beautiful brown eyes. 

“I-,” he started, cutting himself off and clearing his throat before beginning again.

“I had a dream. A nightmare, really. I’ve been having them…a lot, lately, but this one was…bad. Really bad. I…I don’t really know how to describe it, but everyone…everyone I care about was…dead. And I…I couldn’t save them, because I wasn’t strong enough, fast enough, good...”

Alec cut himself off and took a deep, steadying breath, letting it out slowly as his hands rubbed together nervously in his lap. Magnus was quiet next to him, giving him the time and space to get everything out.

“Anyways, after my dreams, I always go on a run. Like this morning. Running…helps me clear my head, to not think about…things. And it’s good, you know, cause it’s like extra training, which I need anyways. Um,” Alec stopped to clear his throat again, trying to come up with a way to explain all his jumbled up thoughts.

“I just...I don’t know, the dream...freaked me out enough that I felt the need to check on people, like, I went to Izzy’s room to check on her and she was sleeping, obviously, but like, it made me feel better. And then I went running like always and somehow ended up here? And I guess, subconsciously, I wanted to check on you? Too? Which sounds stupid, but...Yeah. Sorry, by the way, for waking you up.”

Alec turned his head slightly to give Magnus an apologetic look. Magnus looked back at him with a mixture of empathy and something else that Alec didn’t have a name for, but that made his stomach swoop and twist.

“You don’t need to apologize for that, Alec. I want you to feel like you can come to me, whenever,” Magnus said kindly, and then tentatively offered his hand, palm up, to Alec with a small, hopeful smile.

Alec looked at the offered hand for a moment before reaching out with his own and slowly lacing their fingers together. His heart was racing and he was definitely blushing hard, but the wide, happy smile that lit up Magnus’s face was well worth any embarrassment he felt. Alec shifted a bit closer to Magnus, so that their hands were in a less awkward position, and briefly flashed Magnus a small answering smile, before looking back out at the New York skyline.

Alec took a deep breath and continued. “You died,” he said quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “You died right in front of me, your blood was on my hands, and there was nothing I could do. I was completely _useless_. I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t save _anyone._ ”

Anger laced into his voice, aimed entirely at himself. Magnus squeezed his hand, brief, but firm, and Alec concentrated on the pressure and feel of Magnus’s fingers between his, trying to calm the hurricane of thoughts in his head.

“I couldn’t save _Jace_ ,” he said brokenly, so softly that Magnus would have missed it if he weren’t sitting so close.

“Alec, _no_ ,” Magnus said, rubbing Alec’s hand with his thumb in comfort. “That wasn’t on you, on any of us. Valentine and his men got the better of us all. It was an impossible situation, with no good outcome, and Jace made the decision to sacrifice himse-”

“But I’m his _parabatai_ ,” Alec spit out in anger and guilt. “I was supposed to have his _back_. And more than that, I’m the eldest, I’ve _always_ been the one that was supposed to look after him and Izzy. But I _failed him_. I wasn’t there for him when he and Clary went after Valentine! I’m the one who _weakened our bond_ to the point where I can’t even _feel_ him anymore and almost cost us both our _lives_! I’m the one who thought that if I just did what the Clave told me, everything would be fine, but _nothing_ is fine! The Clave was wrong, my parents were wrong, and _**I failed him**_.”

Alec’s breath was coming in ragged, shuddering gasps, and he belatedly realized that tears had gathered in his eyes, some sliding down his cheeks. He used the hand that Magnus wasn’t holding and wiped roughly at his cheeks with his sleeve, his shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“Alexander,” Magnus said, voice soft, but firm. “Please look at me.”

Alec took a shaky breath, then turned his head more toward Magnus, though still tilted down, and looked up at the warlock through his lashes. Magnus took the hand he was already holding and held it between both of his, giving it a gentle squeeze, and made sure to hold Alec’s gaze.

“First, I want to say thank you for telling me all of this. I know that this is hard for you, and it means the world to me that you’re trusting me with this,” Magnus said, voice serious, yet comforting. “Second, I need you to believe me when I say that everything that has happened, with Valentine and the Clave and Jace, _was not your fault._ ”

“Ah,” he said, holding a finger in front of Alec’s lips when he opened his mouth in protest. “ _Listen,_ first. Please. I have been alive for over four hundred years, Alexander, and in that time I have learned much, about life, about love, about loss and guilt and anger. So, yes, you played a role in the way things played out, and yes, you may have made some mistakes. But you can’t know how things would be now, if you had done things differently. They could be better, but it’s just as likely that they could have turned out _worse_. You cannot know the outcome of what never happened.”

He paused, giving Alec a searching look, and when Alec gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, he continued.

“And you cannot blame yourself. You are not the only person who played a role in all of this, and you most certainly aren’t the reason that all of this happened. That blame lies solely on Valentine. And none of us were able to stop him, not just you, Alec.”

Magnus stopped here and continued to stare into Alec’s eyes as he raised one of his hands, bringing it slowly towards Alec’s face and stopping nearly an inch away from his cheek, eyebrows raised in question. Alec slowly leaned forward until his cheek touched Magnus’s hand, turning into the touch and closing his eyes briefly to try and steady the sudden swell of emotion in his chest.

“And as for your grief and fears,” Magnus continued, voice sounding old and sad, “I can only offer you my empathy and comfort. I know what it is to lose, for I have lost much. That tends to happen, when you’ve been alive for four hundred years,” he tried to joke, lips twitching into an approximation of a smile. “And I know that sometimes suffering is just suffering. It doesn’t make you stronger. It doesn’t build character. It only hurts.”

“But I also know that all hope is not lost,” he said earnestly. “Though the future seems dark, and all of your plans seem to have fallen apart, know that the future is _never_ certain. Valentine has not won, not yet. And Jace is strong, and smart, and _alive_. And you are not alone. Your sister, Isabelle, is still fighting by your side, and Clary and Simon, and Luke and Jocelyn. And me. You still have me, Alexander. There is still hope. _Please_ believe that.”

They sdt for a moment in silence, staring into each other’s eyes, Magnus softly, almost unconsciously, brushing his thumb against Alec’s cheek. Tears welled up again in Alec’s eyes as he was overcome by the unconditional support and kindness Magnus was offering him.

He took a hitching breath before rushing forward and closing the distance between them with a searing kiss. He rested one of his hands on Magnus’s arm, the other coming up and tangling in Magnus’s hair, soft and ungelled. His tears spilled over onto his cheeks, but he didn’t stop to wipe them away, already caught up in Magnus’s mouth as he returned the kiss with equal passion.

The hand that had been resting on Alec’s cheek slipped down to cup the back of his neck, while the other grabbed hold of his shoulder. Alec lost himself to the feel of Magnus all around him, in his hands, his mouth, his _heart_. His lips tasted like raspberries and sugar, and when Magnus gently dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, Alec shivered and his breath hitched.

Alec broke the kiss after a moment, but didn’t pull back. He rested his forehead against Magnus’s, both of them breathing heavily in what little space separated them. Alec squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on breathing, on the feeling of Magnus’s hair between his fingers, the tingling sensation of his lips.

“Hey,” Magnus whispered between them, gently pulling back enough so he could look Alec in the eye. The hand that had been resting on his shoulder came up and joined the other to cup Alec’s face in his hands. His eyes were filled with such fondness that Alec’s breath caught in his throat. He’d never had anyone look at him the way Magnus did.

“I don’t know what the future holds, Alec. But I know we can figure it out,” Magnus said softly, thumbs gently brushing against the curves of his jaw. “Together.”

Alec’s answering smile was small and fragile, but real. He used the hand still tangled in Magnus’s hair to bring his head forward, resting their foreheads against each other again. They stayed like that for a while, Alec’s shoulders slowly relaxing as he matched his breathing to Magnus’s.

Alec knew they still had a lot to talk about, that everything wasn’t magically fixed now just because he'd kissed this beautiful, _magical_ man. He knew that he still hurt, that he was still lost and confused and unsure about what his next step should be. He knew he still needed to talk to Izzy, and to at least try to talk with his parents. He still needed to find Jace, and Valentine still needed to be stopped, and the world still needed to be saved.

But, he thought, maybe with Magnus by his side, it’d all be okay, in the end. Alec may not be able to see the future, but, for the first time, he thought he might actually be looking forward to it.

A smile spread across Alec’s face, so wide that his cheeks actually hurt from it, and then he was leaning forward, capturing Magnus’s lips with his own, again and again and again.

**Author's Note:**

> The line by Kate Jacobs was "Sometimes suffering is just suffering. It doesn't make you stronger. It doesn't build character. It just hurts." 
> 
> Sooo, what did you think of my first ever kissing scenes? Lol, I hope you enjoyed the fic! Please leave a comment or drop a kudo if you did, I really love those!!
> 
> also, you can find me on [tumblr](http://to-a-merrier-world.tumblr.com/) if you ever wanna chat!
> 
> Edit: Oops! Forgot to add these! Here are some picture refs: [Magnus's hair](http://images.totalbeauty.com/content/photos/18-curly-lavender-hair.jpg), [Magnus's nails](http://oflifeandlacquer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/12.jpg), [Magnus's robe](http://g02.a.alicdn.com/kf/HTB10IcNJVXXXXa6XFXXq6xXFXXXn/2015-Sexy-elegant-tracksuit-luxury-faux-silk-pajamas-spaghetti-strap-dress-ladies-satin-slip-robe-gold.jpg) and [the SCONES](http://my.loudclick.net/Sites/5732/WWW/Assets/Images/breakfast/raspberrywhitechocolatescones.jpg) (listen, I know scones don't look very pretty, but I freakin' love them, ok)


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